Chapter 106: Can’t face him

Chapter 106: Chapter 106: Can’t face him

Amelia’s phone alarm cut through the quiet room.

"Uhn-kh..."

She woke with a soft, pained sound that caught in her throat. Her body felt strangely sore—especially lower down, between her legs.

A deep, lingering ache pulsed there, as if she had been thoroughly used. Confusion tangled with the exhaustion. How could she feel this tired when she had only been sleeping? Unless... that vivid, filthy lucid dream had somehow spilled over into her real body.

She pushed herself up weakly. The sheets slid down her bare shoulders. Her fingers fumbled for the phone until she managed to silence the alarm.

The bed told its own story. The neat row of pillows she vaguely remembered was completely gone—scattered across the mattress in a messy, disordered heap. At least she and Reid hadn’t ended up tangled together. If she had woken up wrapped in his arms after a dream like that, she probably would have completely lost her mind.

Her legs trembled when she tried to stand. One hand drifted down almost without thinking, pressing lightly against her core through the thin fabric of her sleep shorts. The soft flesh there still felt swollen and sensitive; a quiet, traitorous throb answered her touch. She rubbed gently, brows knitting, lower lip caught between her teeth.

Why does it feel like this...?

She forced herself to move. She needed to get dressed and pull herself together before Reid woke up—or before she had to look him in the eye and pretend the dream didn’t happen.

Amelia slipped into the bathroom and started brushing her teeth, still half-lost in the strange lingering ache of her body. She had no idea Reid was already awake.

He had simply chosen not to move.

One hand dragged slowly over his face as he stared at the ceiling, mind racing.

What the hell just happened?

His gaze dropped lower. His cock felt genuinely tired—spent in a way that only came from real, prolonged use. Lucid dreams weren’t supposed to leave this kind of physical evidence. Not to this extent. Had she noticed the same thing on her side? How was any of this possible?

Something clicked.

What if this is one of her powers?

It was more than possible. He sat up slowly. One hand slid absently over his own back, still able to recall the exact phantom press of her palms against his skin, the way her nails had dug in when she came. Whatever had happened last night had not been a simple dream.

On the other side of the bathroom door, Amelia was thinking the exact same thing.

She paused mid-brush, toothbrush frozen against her teeth, eyes fixed on her reflection. Her free hand lifted almost without permission, lightly cupping one breast after she raised the fabric of her sleep shirt. The soft flesh felt tender, thoroughly handled. Which should have been impossible.

Wasn’t that just a lucid dream?

Another realization slammed into her so hard she nearly dropped the toothbrush.

Her night self had once mentioned she could create dimensions. That hadn’t been a lucid dream at all.

She had somehow activated a dream dimension—and the real Reid had been pulled into it with her. Both of them had believed it was only a dream while they did... everything. Every filthy, breathless, desperate thing.

"AAAAAHHHHH—!"

Reid was on his feet instantly. He crossed the room in a few long strides and knocked firmly on the bathroom door.

"Amelia? Something wrong?"

On the other side, Amelia’s heart was hammering so hard she could feel it in her throat. She pressed her back against the door, free hand still clutching the edge of her shirt, voice coming out higher and thinner than usual.

"Don’t come in! It’s nothing—I just thought I saw a bug. Or something. Really. Just a bug."

There was a short, weighted pause on the other side of the door.

"...Oh. Alright."

His footsteps retreated.

Amelia stayed frozen for another second, pulse still racing, then forced herself back to the sink and resumed brushing with almost aggressive force. Foam gathered at the corners of her mouth. She scrubbed harder than necessary, as if she could scrub the memory out of her body.

Does he know?

No wonder he had said the dream was amazing inside the dream. He still thought it was only a dream—and she was going to keep it that way for as long as possible.

Even though she didn’t particularly want to stop scrubbing her teeth, she eventually finished, rinsed, and stepped into the shower. Warm water poured over her as she tried to talk herself down, hands braced against the tiled wall.

Everything is fine. It’s not like he’s going to ask if I had a wet dream. People don’t share the exact same dreams. He’ll just keep it to himself and... savor it.

She closed her eyes under the spray, trying very hard to believe her own reasoning. The water ran down her sensitive skin, reminding her with every drop how thoroughly her body still remembered his mouth and hands.

When she finally stepped out, she wrapped a towel tightly around herself and repeated the same instruction under her breath.

Act normal. Just act normal.

She opened the bathroom door and headed straight for the walk-in closet, eyes fixed forward, determined not to look at the bed or the man still in it.

Reid’s voice came from beside her. "I want to ask you something—"

She shut the closet door before he could finish.

Reid stared at the closed door for a long second.

Is she avoiding me?

Does that mean she had the same dream?

The memory of every filthy word he had said—and every filthy thing he had done to her—rose sharply in his mind. The way she had looked up at him with his cock in her mouth. The broken sounds she had made when he ate her out. The way she had swallowed for him. A mix of residual, dark satisfaction and genuine unease twisted in his chest. If she remembered, she might never willingly stay in his room again.

Inside the closet, Amelia dressed as quickly as possible, hands a little unsteady. The soft fabric of her clothes felt too loud against her still-sensitive skin.

Ten seconds. Pack the bag and run. Be fast.

She opened the door—

Reid was already waiting right on the other side.

She instinctively tried to step back into the closet, but his hand closed around her wrist and pulled her forward in one smooth, controlled motion. A startled little squeak escaped her before she could stop it.

"Eep—!"

Reid looked down at her, expression deceptively mild, though his eyes were far too attentive. He still held her wrist. The heat of his fingers sank into her skin. T

"Good morning," he greeted softly. His head tilted slightly as he studied her face, the flush still lingering on her cheeks, the way she wouldn’t quite meet his eyes. "Why the rush? Why avoid me?"

His thumb brushed almost absently, over the inside of her wrist.

"It’s not as if I did anything inappropriate to you in the night... right?"